


Belekûrûz

by artaran



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: I love Melkor, Other, This is a redemption story fuck yeah, i will not be taking questions, this is literally the entire Third Age but with some seasoning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-16 14:49:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20847092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artaran/pseuds/artaran
Summary: What if Melkor's fëa had been rid of corruption by Eru during the Second Age? What if he had returned to Arda in the Third Age to fight with the light and try to correct his mistakes?This story followes a redeemed Melkor, now called Belekûrûz, as he holds back what was once his.





	1. Arrival

When Melkor woke up, the light blinded him. His last memory was of the Door of Night closing and he somehow knew he was back in the Timeless Halls. Had he died?

"Hello, son", a voice he knew all too well. Father. Eru Iluvatar, the creator. The one he had defied and fought with all his power. He sighed.

"I failed you, didn't I?" "No. I failed you. Your corruption could only come to pass because I neglected you for your siblings. You are once more standing in the light now that your fëa is free of darkness, but I am sorry nonetheless."

Melkor opened his eyes again and looked at his father.

"I need to go back. I have to correct my mistakes, I can't just leave it at that."

Eru sighed.

"I hoped you wouldn't ask for this... But I shall inform your brother. You will find yourself in the Third Age, which has just begun - your lieutenant Mairon has fought and been defeated by the Last Alliance, but the ring he forged is still not destroyed. Isildur, High King of Gondor and Arnor now bears it."

He was confused. A ring?

"What ring?"

"To control the people of Middle-Earth, he had one of the Fëanorians, Celebrimbor, forge 19 rings of power - 9 for the men, 7 for the dwarfs and 3 for the elves - the men fell and are now his servants, the dwarven rings are lost and the elven ones are mostly free of his influence. But to control all of them, he forged the One Ring and imbued it with his power. Isildur cut it off his finger, leading to Mairon's defeat. But he was corrupted by it's power and is unwilling to let go of it..."

Melkor quickly nodded and finally stood up.

"You healed my scars", he murmured.

"Of course I did. It pained me too much to leave you like that, broken as you were", was the answer, "I'm quite sure of what you are planning to do in Middle-Earth - you know where the forge is. I am going to announce your arrival to Manwë."

~~~~~~~

Manwë stood at the top of Taniquetil and watched over Arda when he felt a pull on his fëa - he knew who it was.

_What is it, father? _

**Your brother is redeemed. He will shortly arrive and continue on his journey to Middle-Earth. Inform your siblings. **

Melkor was redeemed? He knew that his father could only be right in this as his brother couldn't fool him; yet it seemed so unbelievable. Still, he needed to alert the other Valar.

_ Eonwë, assemble the Valar. I have an important message from our father._

\-----

The Valar were anxiously awaiting Melkor's arrival. They had decided to take Eru's word for it - why would he lie to them about this? Then, they felt a powerful presence nearing. All of them straightened in their thrones. A large fireball crashed into the middle of the throneroom. Out of it, a body formed.

Melkor stood up completely and let his eyes wander over every single one of his siblings. They all had tensed up and their acting to cover it up wasn't very good.

"Hello dear siblings", he smirked, "it seems that you've been waiting for me."

"You don't appear very redeemed", Tulkas growled.

"Well, he always was like this, so considering I can feel no darkness in him, I'd say he is redeemed", was Varda's comment.

"Why thank you Varda, I didn't expect you to speak out for me", Melkor smiled.

"There are more important matters to discuss", Manwë's voice stopped the argument from continuing.

"You said your intention is to account for what you did. What did you mean by that?"

"You know as well as I do that I am your best bet at defeating Mairon should he ever rise again. And don't you dare give me that look, you know he lies in wait. Also, I am not above simply marching around the place helping through performing relatively mundane asks."

"That is vastly different from the man we knew."

"The darkness changed me and now that it is gone, I am changed once more. Come to terms with it."

"He is right in his suspicion that Mairon will not stay defeated, I believe. And one of our siblings on the continent could bring great advantages; not only would we be closer to the events, but we could also react faster."

"Brother, would you agree to such a thing? Acting as our emissary on Middle-Earth?"

"Even if I didn't want to consider it, I wouldn't have a choice. But this is a step to redemption. So yes."

"Now that this is settled, did you need anything else?"

"Certainly not from you", the man murmured,"now, it seems I can't longer grace you with my presence, I have something to do."

Flames consumed his form and he disappeared.

\-----

Melkor reappeared at Tom Bombadil's house. He didn't seem surprised at all to see him - but he'd probably known of his intentions the moment Melkor had thought about them.

"Hello dear. Mind pointing me in the direction of the next city and tell me it's name?"

"Ah, the dark one returns with light in his soul. Once more you set foot upon Arda, but this time as it's greatest ally."

Melkor sighed, but nodded immediately afterwards.

"Indeed. Now, what are these hobbits I hear about? Quite interesting if you ask me."

"They are small and patient, but will be ferocious if the times require it. In Bree, your destination to the east, you may find them. But do not scare them, for they are shy and not used to the tall people of ancient ancestry."

Melkor inclined his head in thanks and turned to where he saw the sun go up.

Bree, it was then.

\---

He had been wandering through the woods for a day now and was currently busying himself with trying to come up with a fake identity. Melkor had decided to rename himself Belekûrûz - now he only needed some kind of backstory should anyone try to pry.

After a while, he settled with a story of him being from a small village far north from here and that he had come south to explore this part of the world. He had two short swords crossed on his back as well as a bow and a spear now - his clothes looked average and worn, but they provided warmth and comfort, which was enough for him. Shortly afterwards, he found a street - Tom had mentioned it. Now he only needed to turn right and walk another mile or so to reach the city - but nightfall had arrived and he wasn't prone to meeting bandits tonight, so he quicked his pace.

It was raining, just Melkor's luck. He hammered on the door next to the large gate at the small town's entrance. A man looked through a window.

"What business do you have here?" 

"I'd like a room and a drink, not that it should interest you anyway."

The door was quickly opened and he walked through.

"My apologies good sir, but I'm required to ask at night. Part of the job."

Melkor nodded and continued into town.

A bunch of drunkards stumbled onto his path and he quickly pushed through the group.

"Ey you! Yes you, fancy swords!" Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"What is it that you want", Melkor hissed at the drunk man.

"'Ave a penny for beer?"

"Not for you."

Of course, Melkor had lifted a couple of wallets on his way through the crowd - he did need something to pay with after all - but he definitely wasn't giving it to this man. He pushed him aside and walked to the next inn, stepping inside.

He was greeted with chatter and laughter when he closed the door. At the counter, a man was looking expectantly at him.

"Hello, are you in need of anything?"

"A room for the night and some wine would be wonderful right now", he said as he slipped some coins over the counter.

"Oh that's is more than enough, here, take some coin back", the chubby man said.

"Sorry, I'm not familiar with it.. I'm not from here."

"Ah, where are you from instead? It is not often that we get travellers here." 

"I'm from a small village far north in the Iron Mountains."

"Isn't evil supposed to dwell there?" 

"It did, once. But all that's left now are ruins and the occasional orc, which I do believe also exist here", Melkor answered. The man nodded and handed him a key as well as a glass full of wine.

"Thank you", Melkor said before he retreated into a corner.

He watched the people come and go for a while, slowly emptying his cup. A while later, the innkeeper came by and Melkor ordered some more - eventually, even more men came through the door to fill the inn and no tables were free anymore.

"Hey you!" The call quickly got Melkor out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"This seat taken?"

"No, you can take it if needed."

The man slumped down next to him.

"You're a lifesaver, man. I'm Maros, what's your name?" 

"Belekûrûz." 

"Whoah, fancy much? You're not from around here, are you?"

Oh god, a talker. Melkor was going to die here.

He looked up from his wine to take a good look at this Maros - a blonde, muscular man who probably was a blacksmith or something. And very attractive with high cheekbones and a sharp jaw, only making his grey eyes stand out more. He quickly noticed a small scar over the his left eye as well. Strong, but not inherently dangerous.

"No, I'm from the Iron Mountains."

"That the place where they say evil houses?" 

"There are ruins of some sort of fortresses, but I honestly couldn't tell you in which ones evil could have dwelled. But it's all gone now if it ever was there in the first place."

"Sounds interesting to live there", Maros said.

"Not really. A village like every other, I'm happy to have gotten away from it."

"So you're a traveller then?"

"Yes. I've come to see other parts of Middle-Earth."

After that, their conversation died down for a bit in favour of each of them drinking some more.

\---

At some point, three obviously angry men busted through the door.

"Shit, those troublemakers again", Maros cursed, "Belekûrûz, ignore them even if they provoke you - unless you want to start a bar fight." 

"No thanks I skip." Maros laughed and clasped his shoulder.

"That's a good attitude to deal with that sort of assholes."

But luck wasn't on Melkor's side today. While the men looked the inn's current visitors over, their eyes had to, of course, land on him and his companion.

"Hey Maros, got a new friend?" One of them called out as they walked over to their table.

"Oh you're a cute one. Want an adventure?" The three laughed.

Melkor rolled his eyes and ignored them, Maros did the same. But the men weren't satisfied. One of them ripped Melkor's wine out of his hand and tried to pour it over his hair.

"Listen, try to touch my hair again and it's personal", he growled.

The whole inn's attention was on him. One of the three got in his face.

"Trying to make yourself the boss are you? This is our town -"

Melkor sighed - he wasn't getting out of this without a fight.

"Do you have a town square here?" He asked.

"Sure we have."

"Perfect. Tomorrow at noon, bring a sword. Now leave me alone."

Clearly satisfied, the men walked off.

"You're in for an asskicking mate. These guys are the strongest around here!" 

"Well, not for long", Melkor said and pulled out one of his swords to sharpen it.

The berating eventually stopped and everyone directed their attention elsewhere.

"That was brave, standing up to them... And somehow I'm quite sure you will manage to get them from their high horse even if you only use those looks of yours."

Melkor laughed at the obvious flirting, but somehow, he enjoyed it. What harm would be there in flirting back?

"What, will your etheral glow suddenly bathe me in your light o blind them with?"

The other gave a lopsided grin in return and stood up. "Sure will! Anyways, I really need to watch that tomorrow. I'm the town's blacksmith; feel free to stop by before your little competition!"

With that, Maros disappeared into the crowd, but not before paying his drinks at the bar.

Melkor smiled thoughtfully and dropped a few coins on the table before heading to his room for the night.


	2. Beginning

Melkor woke up just as the sun started to rise. He groaned and rubbed his burning eyes. Here went his hopes of sleeping into the late morning.

He sat up and tried to detangle his hair with his fingers, but he quickly realised he needed a comb for the mass of raven coloured knots his sleep had gifted him.

Sighing, he concentrated his powers to form one.

Once he was in possession of a comb, he started brushing his hair to make it look more decent than before.

Finishing that, he quickly packed his new belonging away and considered the rising sun.

He doubted that Maros had already awoken and even if he had, the blacksmith definitely hadn't opened shop yet.

Maybe it would be better if he gathered some herbs now to sell them at the market, it would surely lend some coin and it would be a way of passing the time.

\-----

It was past noon and those bastards hadn't shown up yet.  
"I swear if they don't get here soon I'll go find them and drag them here by their throats", Melkor growled. Maros laughed and proceeded to work on the shield he was crafting.

Melkor had joined him in his shop late in the morning after having gone through with his plans of selling a few herbs. The two had spent the last few hours bickering and Melkor decided he liked Maros very much. Now he was drawing a map on a bit of parchment he had acquired with his new coin.

"For who is it?" 

"The shield? Some rich asshole from the next town and if he whines over my quality again despite having a blacksmith in his town himself I might just use it to smack him over the head instead." 

"Allow me to help should it come to this", Melkor grinned, "I'd be delighted to see that." The blacksmith laughed and nodded, "I'll count on you, Belekûrûz."

Finally, he heard the voice of one of the three idiots from yesterday.  
"Move over, we need to teach some lessons!"  
When they arrived at the town square, people made soace for what they knew was about to happen.  
"Where is that little bitch?"

Melkor smirked and vaulted over the barrier between the street and Maros' shop, landing directly in front of them.

Pulling a sword out of its sheath, he sliced upwards, taking the leader's sword out of his hand.  
Kicking the man right into the fountain, he sidestepped the axe that came in his direction and had the charging man's temple meet his fist.

The last one had stood back until now, but he quickly pulled a dagger; one that hadn't been forged well.

Smiling at this, Melkor slammed his sword down onto the dagger, smashing the blade into pieces.

The last thug could only stare at the lone hilt in shock as he was thrown into the fountain alongside his boss.

Less than two minutes to defeat the best fighters in town... They all were lucky he was redeemed and Mairon was far to the south, they'd all be dead if it was otherwise.

He realised that everyone was staring at him.

"But... How? How could he do that?"  
"How strong is he?"  
"That's impossible!"

The chatter of the townspeople grew louder.

"Anyone else needing to settle something?" The people all drew back.

"Wonderful", he jumped over Maros' barrier again - the blacksmith was smiling. "I knew you'd be able to defeat them." Melkor smirked back.

The two cackled at the wet thugs together before Maros went back to his work and Melkor back to the map he was drawing.

\-----

Melkor was busy sneaking through the woods.  
He had spent three days in Bree before someone had reported orcs near here and while they were his creations, they had become even more abnormal and disgusting that even he intended - and if he wanted to blend in as a human trying to integrate into a new society, he had to deal with them. He couldn't take any chances to let the townsfolk become suspicious of him just because he couldn't bring himself to eliminate a few of his creations.

When he arrived at the camp, he heard voices.  
Not the rough, hard voices of the orcs but the fair, light voices of elves.

He climbed a tree and used the leaves to keep him hidden from said elves below him - who apparently had dealt with the orcs already.

"We should inform one of the villages near here. They should be aware of the threat of orcs and we probably should tell them that we wiped out one of their camps", one of them said - Melkor thanked his ability to speak elven tongues even if it was a new form of dialect as this wasn't a version he ever heard. Then again, he had been gone for over 3,000 years - languages and cultures were bound to evolve in that amount of time.

Still, he should get out of here and not let them find him. He really didn't need run-ins with the Firstborn as they'd probably react hostile - and that wasn't considering if they recognised him. While his scars and imperfections were healed, he still resembled the form the elves knew him by quite a lot and he would not take his chances.

So, he climbed through the trees for a bit before he jumped to the ground and ran off to hunt instead.

\-----

Maros was thinking about Belekûrûz.  
The male had left this morning to hunt the orcs said to be near here but hadn't come back yet and it was scaring him.  
What if he was injured or captured? No one would find him out there.

Suddenly, the crowded marketplace became louder - something must have happened. Was his new friend back?

He tried to catch a glimpse of what caused the disturbance; elves, apparently.  
They went to the middle of the square, where Maros had a perfect view on them.

"There were orcs encamped near here and we've come to tell you that they're dealt with. Did they harm you?" 

"No", he town leader spoke up, "but I think we sent out a traveller to deal with them ourselves."

Now Maros left his workshop.

"Yes, we did. You haven't encountered a dark haired, tall male with double short swords and a spear, have you?" 

"We did not. Maybe he arrived at the encampment after us?" 

"He went out this morning, so no. He should be back around now."

Commotion arose from the streets again. Tall, dark hair, spear and swords. Belekûrûz.

\-----

Melkor had decided it was of no use to hunt. The orcs had driven off most wildlife that they hadn't eaten themselves, so he went back - he'd just take his chances.

Now he was at the marketplace and spotted the elves immediately.  
"I see you were faster than I was." 

"You must be the man the people here sent out." 

"He indeed is. Where were you, Belekûrûz?" 

"I was held up by some bandits down the road and dealt with them first - that's why they arrived at the camp sooner I guess."

The crowd that had assembled around them was now dissolving, no longer interested.  
Maros himself went back into his workshop.

Melkor himself looked at the elves for a moment before turning away. He did wonder where they had come from, but now was not the time. He knew of his new rank as Aman's emissary, but nothing would come of it if he didn't aquaint himself with the changed lands he now lived in once more.

He rolled his shoulder, still slightly aching from a bandit's fist.

Sitting down on a bench, he leaned against the hard stone of Maros' house and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Are you alright?"

"It's nothing, don't worry. Hey, can I still take you up on the offer of your guest room? The tavern is at this point going on my nerves."

"Of course! I'd be glad to help you out - oh no. It's the rich asshole."

Melkor stood and looked at the red-robed man coming towards them.

The sneer on his powdered face and the force his guards used to get people out of the way didn't make the Ainu like him. Apparently, mortals were just as able as some of the Firstborn to act as if they were everyone's superior.

"I see you finished the shield. Hand it over."

"The coin, first. You and I both know what you pulled the last time."

"Smith, I am above you in all aspects. You have no right to speak to me in such tones."

"Those that think themselves superior are society's weakest."

The man gasped for air as he turned to Melkor.

"How dare you, you... You dirty savage! I'll have you hanged and quartered!"

Melkor smiled sharply and cocked an eyebrow.

"Will you? You hold no sovereignty here. And I have no plans to visit your village."

Maros tried to appear indifferent, but Melkor saw he was cracking up on the inside.

The rich man whipped around to walk away, but almost knocked himself over when he stumbled over his cape. Now barely containing his laughter, Maros shoved the shield at one of his client's guards, who in return tossed a coin purse on the counter.

While Maros stored the money away, Melkor watched the rich idiot try and salvage he last bits of his dignity by steeling his features and marching away.  
No one was buying the act.

As soon as the guards were out of earshot, Maros started laughing hysterically. 

"Honestly, Belekûrûz, that was great! That expression of shock... Better payment than all the coin he could ever throw at me."

Melkor chuckled and relaxed on the bench again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More with Maros! 
> 
> Feel free to leave reviews!


	3. Integrating

"You alright?"

Maros seemed concerned at Melkor's bleeding hand.

"It's fine. Deflected a wolf's claw different than planned."

He narrowed his eyes and clutched his hand when another spike of pain hit him.

Suddenly, a young boy called out to them.  
"Hey, you two!"

"Yes, what is it?" 

"The townsmaster wants to see you. Dunno why, said to get the dark-haired friend of the blacksmith." 

"Tell him I'll be there shortly." With that answer given, the boy ran off again.

"Any idea what he wants?" 

"Either to scold you for not dealing with the orcs yourself or thank you for dealing with the bandits instead. And if you're unlucky he'll yell at you because of that fight with those troublemakers a week ago."

Melkor sighed. Wonderful.

\-----

The townsmaster was waiting.  
He had summoned the man from the north who had arrived recently - quite an interesting individual. None here had been aware that there even lived people in the ancient lands.

The door swung open and said northerner walked in.

"Ah, there you are. I don't believe we've been introduced; I am Elaras Worenten, son of Karas, the master of this town." 

"My name is Belekûrûz, I'm a traveller from a small, nameless village far in the north."

Elaras noted that the man did not include any parentage. Either cultural difference or he could be everything from a simple bastard to an exile.

"I summoned you because you've shown efficiency in dealing with our little bandit plague and we need someone with your set of skills in this matter. More and more orc camps are being found as we speak and I fear an attack may soon come from the remains of Angmar."

Belekûrûz nodded, understanding what the problem was. "So you want to ask me if I could scout for them and wipe those orcs out." 

"Exactly. It is crucial that we prevent the possibility of such an attack. Bree would be unable to withstand a siege and I do not have enough soldiers to defend the town on the battlefield."

The northerner inclined his head.

"Are there any people skilled with some form of magic here?"

"I am afraid that is not the case. The last died three years ago and neither his daughter nor his son had inherited his talent for it."

"I have a little knowledge of it. I will try and create some sort of barrier at the weakest points of the wall, if you can tell me where those are."

"I do not know their exact location, but my steward, Mercia Hekon, does. Ask her for the details."

"Thank you. I'll speak to her and get to work on your walls."

Before you go, one question." 

"Ask away", Belekûrûz said.

"When word went through town you're from the far north, the local historians, who also run the library, have requested a meeting with you to talk about anyhing that you've seen while living there - they said something about ruins of the First Age." 

"I'll meet with them as soon as I can", his guest promised. 

With that, he walked out the door and disappeared.

\-----

Melkor closed the door behind him and looked around. He was certain he had seen the steward the townsmaster had talked about before he went inside.

"Are you still waiting for something?"

There she was.

"The townsmaster told me to ask you which points in the wall are weakest. I might have a way to fix them."

"If Elaras thinks so. One is just down the street left of the blacksmith, a second is through the fields at the mill's firewood storage and the third is a hundred meters west from the gate. The fourth is at the few stone parts and being fixed; the stone broke apart, so I doubt you can fix that."

"I'll take a look. Thank you."

The woman nodded sharply and went back to her accounting books as Melkor walked towards the stairs downwards.

The things he had been told worried him. What if an attack from the North was coming? He couldn't take any chances, so from now on, any whisper of orcs he heard he needed to investigate. He had no intention of letting these lands fall into the hands of his darkness when he had just sworn to protect them from it.

Coming out the town hall's entrance, he marched over to Maros, who was waiting across the busy street - and got almost run over by a cart.  
"Hey, watch your driving", he yelled after the man on it; most likely a merchant.

Getting no response, he rolled his eyes and proceeded on his way.

"You're bleeding through the bandages."

"Ah, fuck. And there go my hopes of getting shit done today."

"I take it the townsmaster didn't yell at you then."

"Oh no, he didn't. Instead, I can now fix the walls with what magic I have and hunt orcs. Guess what I don't want to do."

"The wall?"

"Yes. I could slap myself for suggesting it to him. But there's no going back now. You coming? I don't know where half the places his steward told me about are."

"Sure. They already asked me to fix that, but if I'm one thing then it's not a carpenter."

Turning around, the young blacksmith motioned for Melkor to follow him.

"Let's go to the fields first. It's the most endangered point."

\-----

"Well. I don't see where my magic can save anything here."

Melkor just stared at the deteriorating wood, which looked just short of collapsing.

"It would make a lot more sense if I simply conjured stones instead. Or lifted them and magically sealed them together."

"Can you do that?"

"If I knew, I'd tell you. But in case you do have stone around here, feel free to tell me. Wouldn't hurt to try, right?"

Maros nodded and looked around.

"Hey, what are you up to?"

"It's fine, Hafiin, we're taking a look at the wall. This is Belekûrûz, he thinks he might be able to fix the problem."

"You forget the part where I am not actually fixing the wood but instead replacing it. If that even works. I do hope so."

"How would you even fix that rotten piece of wood?"

"By burning it down and putting stones in its place."

Hafiin just stared.

"How?"

"Do you have stones here? I'll lift them in place and magically seal them into a wall. Now don't give me that look; this is bound to work if my magic is strong enough. Sadly, I haven't tested that."

Maros took a deep breath and rolled his neck. Then he turned towards Hafiin.

"Is there enough stone in the fields outside? And please make it quick, I'm exhausted."

"Yes, there should be. Allow me to question you friend's ability first. He did say he hasn't tested that theory of his."

Melkor rolled his eyes. He knew he could do it. If he wanted, he could raise a fortress around town. But he couldn't if he didn't want to blow his cover.

"First, I'm standing right here. Second, then give me a bit of stone and tell me where you wouldn't mind a small version of a wall."

"Over there. In the creek. Stone enough for a footlong and -high wall. If it works, place it at the side of the creek."

Melkor closed his eyes and mapped out the field in his mind. Lifting the rocks out of the water, he started to assemble the small wall and imagined the place it should be in.  
Gently, he sealed it into the ground and bound the rocks to each other.

When Melkor opened his eyes again, he smiled at Hafiin.

"See?"

"That was... Truly impressive. I'm sorry to have doubted you."

With that, the other hurried off.

"He's right. That was astonishing. I've never seen that before, I doubt the old scholar would have been able to do it."

Melkor's grin widened at Maros' praise.

"Thanks. Now, the tricky part. Burning the rotten parts down without damaging the good parts."

Snapping his fingers, he conjured a small flame and flicked it over at the rotten wood. He knew that he couldn't lose control for a second; normal wood burned a lot better.

Slowly, the flames consumed the rotten wood and just as the normal wood started to catch fire, Melkor flicked his fingers again to put it out.  
The smoke dissolved with another flick of his ring finger.

The two looked out into the plains behind Bree through the hole in the wall. Indeed there was a giant heap of stones near the wall, just enough to be useful.

Concentrating, Melkor started to repeat the process.

\-----

Maros just watched as swirls of silver magic lifted stone stone and started to assemble a wall. Belekûrûz power truly was incredible; never before had he seen such a thing.

The swirls started to bind wood, earth and stone, creating a wall that shimmered for a moment before the magic dissolved and a stone wall connected the two wooden sides.

Belekûrûz opened his eyes.

"You've drawn quite the crowd. Everyone is town is going to know about your deed tomorrow."

Melkor frowned, but turned to where Maros pointed.

Just past the river, he spotted the crowd of women and men, even some children, staring at the renewed wall. Maros watched his eyes widen and snickered as his friend looked for a place to hide, clearly not wanting attention.

"Scared?"

Sniffing, Melkor rubbed his wounded hand and marched along the wall away from the people.  
Maros chuckled and followed his friend who was clearly unwilling to brave the crowd.

"Not in the mood to be heralded as the great hero? You don't even know where we have to go."

Belekûrûz snorted and slightly turned his head towards Maros, "I'm sure the great blacksmith of Bree is going to tell me."

"You're actually going into the right direction, don't worry. Sorry if I offended you."

"It's fine. I just don't like many people around me thinking of me as someone greater. The last time it ended badly."

Choosing to abandon the clearly uncomfortable topic, Maros searched for something else to talk about.

"Do you like my collection of books? I don't get to read much these days, but you seem to appreciate it."

The warmth in Belekûrûz' eyes returned.

"I do. I haven't read any of them before; although that's logical, seeing as I'm not from around here."

"Which one is you favourite so far?"

"I like the tale about Bandobras Took. It's so deliciously ironic that a warrior comes from a people who'd rather sit around and drink tea all day."

"True. That's why I prefer humans; hobbits have no sense of adventure."

Laughing, Belekûrûz almost walked into a fence.

"So graceful, my lord", Maros commented.

"Yes, most elegant. I'll have you know I have mastered the art of narrowly avoiding collisions with various objects years ago."

The two continued on their way to the second part of the wall when they walked past a small building site.

Belekûrûz stopped and fixated the stone laying around with his eyes.  
Lifting his hands, he let his magic flow through the collapsing stone wall and slowly, it righted itself.

After he finished his work, he grinned smugly and turned to march away.

"Really? The workers are going to be very confused when they return."

"Well, they shouldn't have left their construction site alone with me."

Maros inclined his head in agreement. Belekûrûz had a point.  
The two walked away from the fixed problem and followed the path along the river.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melkor makes himself useful.
> 
> Feel free to leave reviews!

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, this is the beginning of my quest to redeem my favourite antagonist.   
Also, meet my own character Maros! He's going to show up more often and I really love him. He is my baby.
> 
> The characterisation of Tom Bombadil is done as well as I can interpret it and how his behaviour would possibly vary depending on whom he's speaking with.
> 
> Please feel free to leave reviews and give (constructive) criticism!


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